


Replacements

by what_is_a_not



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Angst, Clones, Fluff, Jealousy, M/M, Season 15, gene dies, i really love the original plot for season 15 but i want to change it for gay angst reasons, there will probably be background tuckington and or docnut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:35:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23487685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/what_is_a_not/pseuds/what_is_a_not
Summary: Biff is alive and Gene dies leaving some unresolved shit with Biff, Grif, and Simmons. Grif fucking hates it.
Relationships: Dexter Grif/Dick Simmons
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	Replacements

Simmons realizes pretty quickly after the “ambush” in the canyon that there’s no mirror clone of him on the other team. It takes him a little longer to realize this meant everyone treats him, let’s just say weirdly. Surge seemed very wary of him. Which was expressed through a lot of “hmphs” when talking to him. Temple kept calling him “Seenims” which could just be him not listening to Simmons which seems like a common thing for people to do.

No one treats him weirder than Biff. The entire time Biff would just stare at him. Even through the visor it burned. Especially seeing the orange armor everywhere and expecting Grif only to remind himself that an entirely different person lived in that armor. Simmons can’t blame Biff, seeing as Simmons hasn’t been treating him super normally either. Who could blame him? He hated to admit it but he felt oddly empty without Grif, but that’s normal right? After all these years of talking the sudden abandonment would shock anyone.

“So uhm, cyborg. That’s cool I guess” Biff says as Simmons takes off his helmet and places it gently on the table. 

Simmons and Biff were alone in the mess hall. All the others left to “work on a door”, “fucking go to sleep man this shit is way too wack”, or something in between. Which meant that Simmons was alone with the clone of his ex... friend? Best friend? Comrade? He and Grif never discussed if they meant anything to each other even after all these years and they’ll never get to. It stung Simmons' heart. Which was odd since he definitely doesn’t think about Grif ever and why should he be upset? Grif was a lazy good-for-nothing slob. Simmons' recovery from his own thoughts let him unwind enough to realize he still hasn’t responded. 

“Oh uhm, yeah it was... I guess it’s a little cool. I can read the temperature with my eye and fax letters with my... I can fax letters.” Better not reveal that he has a printer for an ass to a guy he’s never really talked to before. 

“That’s not the part that matters though is it” Simmons could hear Biff wink by his tone. Simmons flushed and could see his heart rate rise through his mechanical eye. Well, at least there’s one difference between Grif and Biff. Grif would never flirt that openly unless it was under the influence of the Temple. 

“Like does it give you superpowers? Like Ironman? Does the eye shoot laser beams? Does it give you super-laser beams?” Simmons chuckled at Biff’s barrage of questions. Relieved Biff was unlike Donut and Tucker. 

“Well, no lasers yet, but this here does have some killer strength” Simmons patted his metal arm. 

“Let’s fucking go then” Biff takes off his helmet. Simmons was expecting him to look a little more like Grif. That’s not to say Grif and Biff don’t look similar. They had about the same shaggy hair and a similar dark complexion. Biff was a little more chiseled and most notably lacked white freckled patches of skin along his left cheek and had two brown eyes instead of one brown one green. 

“Well?” Biff waves his hand expectantly. He had propped it up with his elbow on the table and hand towards Simmons. Simmons took his hand with his metal one and gripped it firmly. 

“Your count” said Simmons, a little too confidently. 

“Ok 1... 2... 3...” SLAM. “Holy shit dude” 

“What’d I tell ya? I’m your robot overlord now” Simmons was being stupidly cocky over a game of arm wrestle but he didn’t care. He didn’t feel like he really had to be awkwardly polite with Biff and Biff seemed to feel the same way. It felt natural.  
“Bow down to me meatsack”

“Nah, if anything you should be bowing to Lorenzo or… you guys have a robot too right?”

“Yeah, Lopez.”

“Yeah, Lopis or whatever. The point is that they’re like two times more robot than you so you’d be so fucked.”

“Still more robot than you so you better bow down anyways for good measure” Simmons tried to ignore the painful wave of deja-vu crashing on him. He swore he had this exact conversation with Grif. That didn’t matter now since Grif left. Maybe Simmons should consider making a new friend. He’ll admit it was weird considering that Biff was essentially a carbon copy of Grif but who would judge him. He’s making friends in a new environment. That’s respectable, right? 

“Eh, I’m sure if I taped down enough tin foil on myself I’d be just as much robot as you. It’s like a science or something.”  
“That’s not how science works idio- uhm dude.”

“It is so. More metal, more robot. More robot, more power. It’s like a political science I doubt you’ll get it.”

“It is so not.”

“Alrighty whatever you say, Mr. Roboto. It was fun bowing down to you but I oughta clock in for the night. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” 

“Oh, yeah, I should probably go to sleep too. Uhm, goodnight?”

“Night.”

Then Biff gives Simmons a strange look. It was pained. Like perhaps guilt. Simmons could share that sentiment. Was he using Biff? He couldn’t shake the idea. As he walked through the halls to find his room he could feel a pit in his stomach. The halls were cold and the entire structure was covered in a hazy blue light. His footsteps echoed through the hallway probably waking up some fish in the middle of the ocean or something. He finally finds a room marked with a paper sign that reads ‘SIMONS ROOM’ and opens the door. It looked like a hotel room. Clean bed, bedside table with a lamp, and a small dresser with a microwave on top. Finding himself at the edge of the bed, Simmons sighs and slams right into it, crashing asleep immediately. 

He dreams of the Temple of Procreation. He’s back in the broom closet with Grif. He feels so cold and Grif is so warm so he has no choice but try to hold Grif as close as humanly possible. Grif apparently had a similar idea and began running his hands right under Simmons’ shirt. Firmly holding onto his waist. 

“Fuck Grif, stay here” Simmons whispers into Grif’s neck. 

Grif doesn’t respond. 

“Grif please just stay right here with me”

“Please stay”

Simmons wakes up alone.


End file.
